


The Thinking Chair

by GayShipsSailing



Category: Blue's Clues
Genre: Actor Steve Burns, Actress Reader, Behind the Scenes, F/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-06 03:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayShipsSailing/pseuds/GayShipsSailing
Summary: You're super excited to be a guest star on the set of 'Blue's Clues'! Good thing Steve is there to welcome you...





	The Thinking Chair

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a gift for a good friend of mine. We both kinda have a thing for Steve...

You breathe in the musty air of the large warehouse as the door closes behind you. The cavernous room is filled with camera equipment, small trailers, and a wall completely comprised of a blue chroma key screen with various props and markers scattered about. There isn’t a single soul in sight. Perfect.

You wander around the set; this is your first real job as an actress, and you had been lucky enough to land a place on the insanely popular kid’s show, Blue’s Clues. You step onto the blue sheet that extends out from the wall. Bright lights illuminate one of the most important props: a plush red armchair.

“You’re early,” a voice says from across the room. Steve Burns is climbing out of a trailer in full costume and smiling your way. You begin to nervously wring your hands. Even with that dorky bowl cut, he is extremely attractive, especially in real life. He shoves his hands in his pockets and saunters over to you. “The rest of the crew just left for lunch. I don’t think they’ll be back for a while.”

“That’s okay,” you say. “It will give me time to go over the script some more.” Steve approaches you and extends a hand.

“Well, I’m Steve,” he says.

“(y/n),” you reply, shaking his hand. He grins and gestures behind him, not releasing his grip.

“Did you want to see it?” he asks. “Most of the guests really like the Thinking Chair for some reason.”

“Oh, sure.” You chuckle. It did seem to have a certain appeal, not unlike Steve. You’re drawn to it and him. You let him lead you over to the red chair. It’s made up of thick, rich fabric, with black piping along the edges to make it look two-dimensional to the audience. He moves you around to sit, and you sink into the comforting piece of furniture. 

“Isn’t it great?” Steve asks. You nod and settle back, closing your eyes. “I definitely want one for my house.” Steve goes quiet after that and, when you look at him again, he’s staring at you.

“Yeah, it’s awesome.” You jump up quickly and smooth out the cushion. His brown eyes never leave you. “Where will I be standing again?” You’re looking around the set, trying to change the subject. You feel a hand close around your wrist. Steve pulls you back, spinning you to face him. His smile has turned into a smirk and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“When we start filming, you’ll be over there.” He nods to the other side of the room. “For now, why don’t you stay here?” You don’t resist when he leans down to press his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. His other hand moves to your lower back, firmly holding you against his chest. His kiss is soft, and you melt into it, into him. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You moan and deepen the kiss, forgetting where you are for a moment.  
When the two of you part for breath, Steve is looking down at you with darkened eyes. The way he’s taking those deep, shuddering breaths, the way he’s rubbing small circles on your back, the way his other hand is running up and down your arm, it all makes a strong heat pool deep inside you.

Steve begins to slowly lead you back to the chair. He sits and looks up at you, waiting. You pull up the hem of your flowy, knee-length skirt and straddle his hips. Steve’s fingers tangle in your (h/l) (h/c) hair as he pulls you down against him. You feel his erection straining through your clothes and instinctively rub against it. Steve lets out a surprised grunt and kisses you roughly. You begin to move like that, back and forth over his khakis, loving the small sighs and noises it elicits from his talented mouth. Soon, it’s not enough. He pushes you back just far enough to yank his green striped shirt over his head, revealing a well-sculpted chest and strong, muscular arms. 

You make quick work of his belt and pants. While you’re pulling his underwear down, you have a moment of clarity. You are with Steve Burns on the open set of a children’s show. The crew could come back at any time. Hell, those cameras could be rolling right now for all you know. But, those thoughts don’t scare you. They thrill you more than anything. Just as you free Steve’s cock from his pants, he jerks you back into position, hands fumbling under your skirt as you resume your movements. 

He nips softly at the side of your neck, down your collarbone, while his fingers toy with the band of your underwear, teasing you by snapping the elastic against your flushed, sensitive skin. A bite against your pulse makes you hiss and dig your nails into his back. You feel him smile against your throat as his hands practically rip your underwear down. His fingers find your clit and begin to rub it slowly, dragging every noise he possibly can from your mouth.

“What is it you want?” he asks in a voice you barely recognize. He doesn’t stop his ministrations but cranes his neck to look up at you with lust-blown pupils. You answer him by dipping your head down and capturing his lips with yours, pushing yourself against his hand. He moans and smiles as two fingers slide inside of you, pumping in and out rhythmically, preparing you for what will come next. 

Steve breaks the kiss momentarily to lift you by the hips, positioning you over his cock. He looks into your (e/c) eyes as he lowers you onto himself. You’re slowly filled, deeper than you’ve ever been. A primal moan rips out of you and your eyes flutter closed as your hips settle onto his. The next time you look at Steve, there’s a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. You rake your hands through his hair, wrapping them loosely around his neck, and then take the incentive to begin moving. 

You press your knees into the velvety chair, rise up just a little, and slide back down slowly. Steve’s head falls back against the chair and he sighs. His fingers are still on your hips, and he digs in, urging you to keep going. You take it slow, drawing out each stroke languidly. It isn’t long before Steve begins to mumble, and at that moment, you realize it’s you who is in control here.

“Please, (y/n),” he’s breathing. “Please…” You smile and grab a handful of his hair, forcing him to look at you.

“What is it you want?” you echo his earlier question with a grin. Not a man to be trifled with, Steve grips your hips even tighter and begins to thrust up into you. You gasp in surprise, but barely have time to adjust before he starts a fast-paced rhythm. You hold on to his broad shoulders, unable to control the stream of moans and curses tumbling from your lips as he hits that spot deep inside you. You’re crying out his name, he’s thrusting harder into you, and you know your climax is getting close.

“(y/n), please…please.” He’s begging, voice cracking as he attempts to control himself. You can feel his hips begin to stutter and he looks up at you. You kiss him one more time. It’s messy and hurried and passionate and just enough to send both of you tumbling over the edge.

You throw your head back as your orgasm hits, screaming Steve’s name. He gives one last thrust and groans, filling you completely. You fall forward onto his chest and the two of you stay there for a minute to try and catch your breath. When you begin to move again, pulling on and straightening discarded clothes, the weight of what just happened washes over you, followed closely by shame. Steve probably thinks you’re a groupie now, just some slutty guest star who would sleep with anyone. As you berate yourself, Steve moves in front of you, tucking his shirt into his pants hurriedly. Then, the unexpected happens. He begins fixing your hair, gently tugging the tangles out and arranging it.

“Hey,” he whispers. He guides you to look up and meet his eyes, and you nearly swoon at the combination of his sex hair and crooked smile. The way he’s gazing at you makes all the negative emotion disappear without a trace, replacing it with an unfamiliar yet pleasant warmth. “How about you stick around until we finish filming? I promise you won’t regret it.” He winks at you, but before you can answer the warehouse door slams open and you hear footsteps approaching. Both of you look around the set, making sure everything is in it’s place. Then, just before a lone cameraman reaches the blue screen, you plant a chaste kiss on Steve’s lips, agreeing to his offer. You back away, grabbing a script from a nearby table and hiding the bright blush taking over your face at the thought of what might happen later.

**Author's Note:**

> NO JUDGEMENT!


End file.
